


Little Soldier Boy

by WerewulfTherewulf



Series: To let those we love suffer [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental kidnapping, Child Neglect, Gen, Implied heavy drug use, kid!Fíli, kid!Kíli
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:57:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewulfTherewulf/pseuds/WerewulfTherewulf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin always considered himself to be a good man who did good things, and was known as such by others. What he was not known for was his on the spot thinking. Now how the hell was he supposed to explain the scraggly little boy sitting in his kitchen, whose face was plastered all over the local news?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Soldier Boy

Thorin walked brusquely down the sidewalk, head bent low to hide from the biting cold behind his upturned coat collar. His gaze was locked on his phone, brand new from the day before. Thorin wasn’t the best with new technology, and all he knew about this device was that it was some kind of fruit brand and he could check his e-mails (something that took him an aggravating hour to set up). Not ten minutes ago Thorin had spoken to his work associates, telling them what they should basically be doing after he left to an across-town business meeting. But here he was, having to read through several frantic messages sent to him from those very same work associates, asking him things he _knew_ he had gone over. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. The people he dealt with could be so obtuse sometimes! He had _just_ finished explaining this exact subject to them not thirty minutes ago, and now here they were, asking him what to do now. He looked up to the overcast, grey sky and grimaced, hoping it wouldn’t snow.

Shivering when a gust of wind blew by, he shoved the phone into his coat pocket and pulled it tighter around him. As Thorin began walking again, he had to repeatedly glance up to see what was in front of him, his cheeks stinging from the cold. ‘Of course,’ he thought. He had seen nothing around so decided that he could hide his face for a few seconds longer, only to slam right into someone’s shoulder an instant later. Startled and stumbling, he apologized to them as he caught his footing. Instinct made him turn to see if they were alright. To his surprise, it seemed as if the person, a young woman, didn’t notice at all. She just kept walking slowly straight on, as if in a daze. She was twitching slightly, constantly running her hands through her hair, tugging on it, and mumbling incoherently to herself. She wasn’t wearing a coat, Thorin couldn’t help but notice, and was in very sparse clothing. Her mint-green crop top was covered in unidentifiable stains, and one of its straps had slipped off her shoulder.The thin, blue flannel sleep pants she had on were much the same, and Thorin could see flashes of gold high heels.

Her free hand that wasn’t playing with her hair was left dangling behind her, holding a long strand of red yarn. Following it, Thorin was even more shocked to see a very small boy on the other end of it, holding on tightly. The tiny boy was as scarcely dressed as what Thorin assumed was his mother. Maybe. She had long, straight, dark brown hair, and his was a wavy golden brown. It was long enough to be pulled up into a sloppy bun, and Thorin could tell it had probably been that way for a long time. He wore only a navy blue adult’s shirt that read ‘Big Kahuna 1974’ on it in a much lighter shade of blue, and both he and the woman looked as if they had never seen a shower.

Thorin couldn’t help but stop abruptly and stare at the scene. Something was definitely wrong with this picture. Every few seconds, the boy kept turning to look over his shoulder at Thorin, and every time he did, Thorin felt his chest fill with more and more dread. The boy’s eyes and cheeks were sunken, his lips were pale and dry and his hair appeared quite brittle. The next time he turned to look at Thorin, he tripped over a raised bit of sidewalk and dropped his string. His head whipped back around, and he stopped walking, crouching down to pick it up.

An instant before he grabbed it, he was suddenly flying through the air, and then his face was smushed against something soft, warm and black. He felt arms around him, and was being jolted up and down wildly.

Thorin didn’t know why he did it. Well, he did, but he didn’t know why he _actually did it_. He saw his chance, and he took it. Now he was running down the street holding a completely random child to his chest, seeking out his car. He must have looked ridiculous, sprinting down the sidewalk and constantly looking behind him. To his relief, the woman didn’t seem to notice her child was missing at all. The boy himself just stared right up at him, a lost expression on his face. Thorin couldn’t help but notice the less than pleasant scent wafting from him, but he wasn’t going to hold it against him.

Finally, they reached Thorin’s sleek black car that he had parked in some back lot that didn’t require much of a fee. He whipped out his keys and unlocked the doors, sliding the child right in behind the driver’s seat. He stood there, watching the boy, his heart beating fast from adrenaline. Noticing the boy shivering, he yanked off his black petticoat, and bent into the car, wrapping it all around him.

“How’s that? Are you warm now?” he asked gently, standing back up. It took a moment for Thorin to get a response, but the boy looked down at the coat, then back up at Thorin and nodded slowly. “Okay, good. Oh!” Thorin went back in and buckled him up, berating himself for his stupidity. He ran a hand through his short hair, thinking about what to do next. He stood and slid himself into the driver’s seat, climbing in and turning the car on after getting situated. He quickly fiddled with the air conditioner, turning the heat on and aiming it towards the back.

Thorin next adjusted the rear-view mirror so he could see the boy. “Are you hungry? We could go get something to eat,” he suggested. The boy didn’t respond at all other than staring straight back at him, but judging by his gaunt face it had been a while since he’d had a warm meal. Putting the car into gear, Thorin quickly drove them to the nearest small diner.

He helped the child out of the car by scooping him up and gingerly setting him on his feet. He readjusted the coat that just about swallowed the boy whole, only for the sleeve on the right arm to slide up to his elbow as he reached out a hand to Thorin. Hesitating in his brief confusion, Thorin smiled and grabbed the hand, leading him inside. They were brought to a booth and Thorin watched his companion climb up and scooch to the very corner before sliding into the seat across from him. Their waitress had walked over to give them menus, but Thorin stopped her.

“No need. I’ll just take the special, and he’ll have…” he looked to the boy, but he didn’t react at all, continuing staring out the window, watching the traffic drive by. Thorin grimaced. “He’ll have blueberry pancakes, and some orange juice. Can I have some coffee with that, too?” he asked her, and she nodded and let them be after scribbling down the orders.

Thorin looked back at his little companion, who still hadn’t moved. Seeing his dry and beyond chapped lips, Thorin rifled through his pockets until he found his chapstick, removed the lid and twisted it up a little.

“Hey, here you go,” he said, holding it out. The boy still didn’t respond. Thorin cleared his throat, and called out again. Still nothing. In a last ditch attempt, he tapped the chapstick on the table, making a distinct noise that stuck out in the quiet ambience of the diner. The little boy jumped slightly and looked at Thorin, then to the chapstick. Thorin held it out to him again, but he just stared at in in confusion.

“What?” the boy asked, not understanding. His voice was very quiet, and Thorin was perturbed at how unused it was.

“For your lips, it will make them better,” he explained, patiently waiting as the child timidly reached out and took it. He stared Thorin straight in the eye as he slowly brought it up to his lips, as if scared he would do something wrong. He even brought it to his nose for a second, tilting his head at its curious scent. Finally he ran it across first his bottom lip, then the top one in slow, graceless abandon. Thorin couldn’t withhold his cringe as the wax got all over the child’s mouth and even a bit of his tongue. Thorin collected it from the shaking arm that held it out to him and he put the cap on it and tucked it away. He made a mental note not to use it again, and to just give it to the boy later.

The little boy sat there staring at the tabletop, his mouth parted and eyebrows scrunched together. His tongue kept darting out to lick at the chapstick, unsure how to continue.

“Don’t like it away like that… just… put your lips together like this,” Thorin instructed. He pulled the chapstick back out without a thought and applied it, cursing himself when he remembered. He rolled his lips together, a small laugh escaping through his nose as the boy’s eyes locked on his lips and he tried to clone the action. “Much better, right? Chapstick doesn’t taste very good. Wax in general doesn’t, I assume. Did you know that? All lip balm is made of wax, which comes from bees. They add the different flavors in the factories. This one doesn’t have one, I don’t think. Not that I can tell. My _dentist_ gave it to me, which is odd.”

Thorin looked up as he finished his rambling only to see his companion staring back out the window. He sighed lightly and glanced around the restaurant, perking up a little when he recognized their waitress walking towards them with their food. She set it before them and poured their drinks before leaving. Almost immediately the boy began picking at the hot pancakes, flinching back several times as he brought the chunks to his mouth. Grimacing, Thorin called out gently a few times, telling him to use the silverware. This was received a blank stare before the boy looked around then back to Thorin, a worried look on his face.

This caused Thorin to reach over and grab the napkin-wrapped bundle of silverware and dump it out on the table for the boy. The loud noise startled him, and Thorin felt a bit guilty. He pulled the plate of pancakes closer to him so he could slice it all up into bite-sized pieces, then poured some syrup on top.

“Oh shit, wait-- er, crap, sorry. I hope you like syrup… I’m used to Kili--” he stopped, glancing up to see the boy’s lack of reaction. “Well, okay. Here, don’t use your hands they’ll get sticky. Use the-- this is a fork, okay? I don’t know if you already know this stuff but... It works well with most foods. This round one? Spoon. Good for soups and liquids and stuff. Knife is for cutting. So just stab these with the fork and eat it that way,”

He went ahead and stuck the fork into two squares of pancake before handing it to the boy, who stuck them in his mouth and nodded, satisfied. As he ate, the sleeve of Thorin’s coat sleeve would collect syrup on the rim and would brush up against his face when he took a bite, leaving trails of syrup. He would sometimes take a break to bring his cup of juice to his mouth with both shaking hands. A small smile appeared on Thorin’s face as he ate his own meal, though it didn’t escape his notice that the boy would repeatedly rub at his throat every time he swallowed something.

It wasn’t until they were out of the diner and back in Thorin’s car that he realized his stupidity. He turned to look back at the tightly bundled up brunet in the backseat.

“Hey, what’s your name?” he asked. The two of them had a brief staring contest.

“Fili,” was the long awaited answer. His voice was still scratchy despite drinking the entire glass of orange juice, and it made Thorin feel uneasy.

“Fili? How funny, my nephew’s name is Kili. You might meet him soon, my sister-- his mother, brings him over every weekend. Well… maybe. He can be kind of… overbearing at times, I admit. Oh. My name is Thorin.” he held out his hand awkwardly for a moment before he realized that no matter how long he held it there, Fili wouldn’t-- Thorin was prevented from pulling his hand back when Fili suddenly reached out his own hand and lightly tapped their fingertips together, pulling back and putting the arm back into hiding. Thorin’s cheeks hurt from the large smile pulling at his cheeks and he nodded. “Nice to meet you, Fili,”

He started the vehicle and pulled out to the main road after turning the radio on at a low volume. Fili seemed entranced at the sudden noise, staring at the speakers in the door as if trying to figure out how it all worked. Halfway to Thorin’s home, his phone began ringing. Loudly. Cursing under his breath, Thorin frantically looked for it while trying to keep his eyes on the road. Then he recalled shoving it into his coat pocket and he looked back at Fili. Poor Fili had been shocked so badly, and he was frantically trying to find the source of the vibrations and noise.

“It’s in the left-hand pocket! Just give it to me,” Thorin ground out, flinging his hand to the back waiting to feel the familiar weight. It took longer than he’d have liked, but he wasn’t able to stop the car or pull over. Pulling his hand back up, he quickly glanced at the screen before ignoring the call and turning the phone off all together, tossing it to the passenger seat. He checked on Fili in the rearview mirror. “It’s alright, you’ll be okay. It was just my phone. We’re almost there… home.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> working title; 'oh you made this? mine.'
> 
> yessss it's another fic that's not Smoke Signals or WMYBSB I knooooow. Soon, my lovelies. Please comment(!!) and give me love ♥ if you care enough :)  
> oh p.s. for FiliLover101, the sweetest anon ;)


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